


Just A Headache

by IWillBeTheEndofYou



Series: The Domestic Lives Of Figure Skaters [21]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Another sick fic, Aspirin, Documentaries, Found Family, Headaches, M/M, Platonic Bed Sharing, Podium Family, Soup, Victor can be smothering, Yuri considers his parents, Yuuri doesn't feel good, burnt toast, kids doing their best, sick days, yes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:13:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29070111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWillBeTheEndofYou/pseuds/IWillBeTheEndofYou
Summary: Yuuri wakes up with a headache. Victor and Yuri are left to care for him.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Series: The Domestic Lives Of Figure Skaters [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2046686
Comments: 25
Kudos: 151





	Just A Headache

**Author's Note:**

> If you suggested this prompt, this one is for you! Enjoy!

There must have been an elephant sitting on his head. That was the only reason Yuuri could think of for the ache there, right behind his forehead. He groaned and rolled over, pulling the blanket up over his head. Better to try to fall asleep in a nice, dark cave. Sleep off this headache.

“Katsudon?” a soft voice from the doorway. He pulled the blanket down a bit, squinted in the dim light. Yuri had obviously managed the whole night in his bed, and that was good. He pushed the blanket down more, made to sit up. But a stab of pain attacked his head again, and he laid back down.  
“Are you okay?”

“I've got a headache.” he admitted. Yuri hovered in the doorway, looking thoughtful.

“Want some aspirin?”

“That would be nice. Where's Vitya?”

“He went to the gym and said he had some errands to run, it's just you and me until this afternoon.” Yuri chewed his lower lip. “I can make breakfast?”

“Can you?” that was interesting. He was a little afraid of the mess that would be waiting for him when he finally made his way out the kitchen, Yura didn't have a ton of experience. But it would be nice to let the kid do something for him.  
“All right. Go ahead.”

Yuri bounded off. He could hear the faint rustling in the kitchen, and let himself drift off a bit. He wondered if the kid would remember to bring him the aspirin. The padding of paws made him smile as Makkachin pulled herself onto the bed and settled behind him, her head resting on his hip.

“Katsudon?” he startled awake, having dozed a little harder than intended. He blinked and smiled, seeing the tray that Yuri was holding out to him. Sure enough, there was a bowl of instant oatmeal, sprinkled with a little bit of cinnamon, some toast with a little bit of raspberry jam, two aspirin pills, and even a mug of green tea, steam curling upwards rather attractively. 

“Thank you, sweetheart.” he sat up, setting the pillows behind his back, accepting the tray onto his lap. Upon closer inspection, the oatmeal looked like it wasn't quite done. The toast was burned at the edges. But the tea looked fine enough, and he took a sip, pleased that the kid had remembered he liked a little honey in it when he wasn't feeling well.  
“This is perfect.”

Yuri gave a small smile, looking down at his toes. Yuuri knew he'd at least eat some of the breakfast, no way he could ever send this back or turn his nose up at it. Not after he could see how much effort was put into it. The kid drifted out of the room, and he could hear the sink running. It was the perfect time to gulp a few bites so no one could see his face.

And he knew that the dishwasher was being loaded.

Makkachin may or may not have helped him dispose of the burnt toast. And most of the oatmeal was edible. The tea went down well enough, and when Yuri came back in, he looked pleased to see how much had been eaten. 

“I think I can get up now.”

“No! If you're sick you have to stay in bed. You made me stay down when I had the ear infection.”

“But you did come and lay on the couch, didn't you?” Yuuri raised an eyebrow.

“But if you even come out the living room, you'll find something to do. You'll realize something is dusty or out of place or something needs doing. And then I'll look over and you'll have the vacuum out  
or be trying to give the dog a bath. And then Victor will be so mad at me for not taking proper care of you.” Yuri scowled.

Well, maybe he had a point. He had to smile in spite of himself. The blond had a point, and seeing the way he was crossing his arms, he knew that he was going to lose that fight. So he settled himself into the bed, watching as the young Russian took the tray. 

“Do you want like, a wet cloth to put on your forehead?” 

“That would be lovely.” he murmured. The boy bustled off and came back a few moments later, a nice wet cloth which he folded into an oblong and put across his forehead.  
“Thank you, sweetheart.” 

He almost walked out of the room but hesitated, clenching and unclenching his fists. There was something that he wanted to say, to ask, but he couldn't quite get there yet. Yuuri laid patiently in the bed, not looking at him.

“Can I stay in here with you? Will that make you feel worse?”

“Oh! No, sure.” he gestured to the other half of the bed, where Victor usually slept. His ward bounded across the room and peeled back the covers, climbing in. Makkachin adjusted, and Yuri flicked on the television, finding a tiger documentary, turning the volume down low.

This was nice, Yuuri thought as his eyes drifted shut. He liked feeling the body next to him, the warmth, the sense of calm that was spread through the room. It didn't do a whole lot for the pounding in his head, he thought, but it did a lot for his soul.

Yuuri rolled over at once point in his sleep. Yuri reached out and plucked away the damp rag, which was warm now anyway. He let it lay on the side table and rolled onto his side, looking at his guardian. He looked so soft in moments like these, he looked so gentle. It was hard to remember that he was so strong, so vicious when he was on the ice.

Yuri wasn't sure which one he preferred. The brunet was breathtaking when he was so into skating. He'd never say it out loud, but his performances were some of the most beautiful that Yuri had ever seen. It made him want to work harder, to be better. He had to be at least as good as the older man. He knew he had age and time on his side, but not dedication.

Katsudon was also the first one who made Yuri really feel like he was lovable, outside of Dedushka. And there was always the feeling that Dedushka had to love him, it wasn't an option. But it had been optional for Katsudon and the old man. And they had chosen that.

They had chosen Yuri.

They were the only ones that made him feel like he was worth picking. Worth fighting for. Worth wanting. There was Otabek, of course, but that love—if it really was love—was different. It lit a fire inside  
of him, but it wasn't the same way that Katsudon and the old man loved him. 

He curled into a smaller ball and reached out to wrap his hand around Yuuri's. It was cool to the touch, when it should have been warm. He loved those warm hands, when they ran through his hair, when they cupped his cheeks. He should go and get the thermometer, and maybe even call Victor and ask what they should do.

He held onto him for a moment before padding to the bathroom and getting the thermometer. Yuuri stirred faintly as he put it under his tongue. Low fever, but a fever all the same. He hesitated. Calling Victor right away would mean that he'd rush home and panic, and he didn't want to deal with that. Maybe the Japanese man only needed rest. After all, he'd eaten and had aspirin, and maybe there was nothing else to do just now.

The man in question groaned in his sleep, pulled the blanket up higher. He bit his lip and crept out of the room, leaving the door cracked open so that he could hear if he was called for.

***

Yuuri woke up later to feeling a big hand on his forehead, pushing back his hair. He leaned into the touch, wanting more of it. The hand rubbed his cheek for a moment, and a straw was pressed between his lips. Nice cool water for his dry throat. 

“Yura says you have been sick all day.”

“I haven't. I've been resting.” he cleared his throat and sat up, scowling when his headache hadn't receded.

“I think we out to take you to the doctor.”

“It's just a cold, I think. You and Yurio should stay away from me. I wouldn't want you to get sick.”

“Like I could ever stay away from you!” Victor smirked. He sighed then. “Yura made you soup.”

“How trashed is the kitchen?” 

“He made it canned. He knows where his limitations are.” Victor snorted. “Shall I get a bowl?”

It was a long four days, honestly, Yuuri thought. He had barely been allowed to leave the bed. He certainly hadn't been allowed to leave the room. He shuddered to think what the living room and  
kitchen were looking like. 

“I promise I'm fine,” he sighed. “The fever is broken, you know.”

“But you could still be weak and recovering!”

“I am going to need a vacation to recover from you taking care of me.” he mumbled, flopping back into the bed.

He'd felt better after the first day, truly. And the day after that, it was nice to be taken care of. Victor had been doing the cooking, thankfully. He sometimes could hear them bickering in the kitchen about what would be better for him. The kid wanted to stick to Japanese foods, sure that he'd want a taste of home when he didn't feel good. Victor wanted to try Russian comfort foods.

In reality, he was happy with either one. But he did like the thought of Yura reaching out towards his family, asking for recipes, trying his best. Like he had with the teriyaki salmon. And he loved the thought of Victor working out all the recipes that he had loved the best when he was growing up and not feeling the best.

But by the time he was feeling better, he really just wanted out of bed and to go get cleaning. Or just walk around. Anything but being coddled by his husband and child. Although, he admitted to himself, he didn't really have the heart to tell either one to just leave him be. It made Yuri feel better to be taking care of him. And trying to fend off Victor would no doubt lead to an over dramatic display from the older Russian. Not that he didn't love some of his drama displays, he just didn't feel quiet in the mood to talk him down from one.

The fifth day, he woke first determined and feeling much much better. Victor was dead asleep in the bed. He didn't bolt awake when Yuuri stirred, which was a relief. He must have been exhausted from trying to take care of someone who didn't need that much. Yuuri tip toed to the bathroom, enjoyed a leisurely shower, and then made it to the kitchen.

It was a mess, of course. They had tried, he could tell. But the sink was full of dirty dishes, there were spatters of sauces and broths on the stove. Crumbs on the floor. He grabbed the rags and spray and got to work. But the time Yuri stumbled out, rubbing his eyes and grumbling, the kitchen was sparkling and there were American style pancakes frying.

“Katsudon! You're meant to be in bed.” he scolded.

“I feel fine.” he smiled, amused. He dropped a cup of cocoa in front of his ward and a kiss on top of his head. “Pancakes in just a minute, will you get the syrup?”

The promise of pancakes seemed to jolt Yura out of his worry, and he went to the pantry to get the requested item. A fresh, hot plate was placed in front of him in just a minute, and he began to eat as only teenage boys can. 

“Wonder what's keeping Victor.” he mused as he sat down with his own plate. He blew across the top of his tea, enjoying the first sip. Before He could even take a bite, he heard a coughing and a loud groan from his bedroom.  
“Oh. That would explain it.” he looked at his ward. “Well, are you ready to start taking care of Victor?”

“No. He'll be the biggest baby of all of us.” Yuri grumbled.

“I'm sure you're right, sweetheart. Still, we can't leave him to suffer. Help me make a tray. It's gonna be a long week.” he stood up and put the kettle back on for tea.


End file.
